Let's Waltz
by exaigon
Summary: Katsuki Bakugou and Harley Potter were supposed to be together forever. Inspired and based on Sanguine-tenshi's 'The nicest angel you have'.


Hiya folks! So, I know I already have a lot going on but I couldn't help this little plot bunny! Based on and Inspired by Sanguine-tenshi's **The nicest angel you have**! It's a Harry Potter/BNHA crossover with a lot of potential and awesomeness that caught my eye. So with permission from the author, here is my little angst corner for their wonderful fic!

Oh yea... **warning** for language... haha...

 **Let's Waltz**

* * *

 _"This is it. The end of this chapter. The final battle. It's almost over."_

Katsuki couldn't focus. The teacher was droning on some shitty topic that might or might not be important but he couldn't give a flying fuck right now. It didn't help that his anger (and worry but damn if he'd admit it to himself) was rising with each second he couldn't see her. The scritch scratch of pens and pencils were filling the room along with Deku's incessant muttering. The tick of the clock. The shuffle of paper. A cough every now and then. Deku's. Fucking. Mumbling.

He could hear his temper reaching its explosive limit. Fuck, he wished he could at least be home. He should have called out sick. But then his shitty mom might have gotten on his case. The blonde wasn't sure what would be worse. Fuck. Fuckity fucking fuck.

His pen snapped in his hand, spilling black ink on his empty lined paper, staining his hands.

How was he supposed to be sitting here doing nothing when his sweet perfect Harley was fucking fighting for her life? He was supposed to do that! He was supposed to be her Hero. Save her.

But no.

He couldn't reach her.

Not unless they were dreaming together.

Katsuki sucked in a sharp breath, staring blankly at the ink on his hands. There was a small pop in his palm followed by the acrid smell of smoke. Deku's muttering finally halted and he could feel the stares of the extras around him. It only served to piss him off more, his vision starting to haze around the edges.

Tunnel Vision Focus Harley had called it. One of his downfalls. Something a Villain could take advantage of by riling him up. They'd worked on it but Hali had a temper too and two people working on anger management wasn't all that… great. Sort of explosive actually. Fuck. How was she? Were they fighting already?

He had the utmost faith in her. Of course he did! Harley was a fucking monstrous whirlwind when she wanted to be. He'd taught her to be, but fuck. This Villain she was fighting was old and had hella experience. They'd both thought the way her society feared him was ridiculous but it didn't negate the fact that the snake fucker was strong and merciless. The only possible route they figured she could play on was his arrogance. God, Harley could have such razor tongue. It was fucking great.

He clenched his fists to keep his explosions from becoming worse. He didn't need any disciplinary action no matter how much he missed and needed and worried for her. Because, fuck it, she was going to win and he was going to become the number one Hero.

"Bakugou, is everything alright?"

"Of course it is," he growled at the teacher extra, red eyes flashing with irritation and suppressed violence.

"Then would you-"

Everything after that was white noise. His head felt heavy, his chest twisting like an angry serpent. He never felt himself hit the ground.

* * *

He woke up in the park, the white moon shining down and casting an eerie glow. What? Where… Was he in the dreamscape?

His head still felt heavy, brain sloshing like blended soup, as he shakily stood up. His anger drained immediately replaced by quaking fear and chest constricting worry.

"Hali?"

His voice was gruff, quiet, and cracking. He cleared his throat, leaning unsteadily against the swing set. He didn't remember class ending. He didn't remember going to bed.

"Hali, are you here?"

There was a loud crack that reverberated through the area. It seemed to come from his very soul as his chest ached and throbbed in time with the earthquake under his feet. He gulped in desperate heaves of air, eyes wide in fear. Something was wrong. Something was very very _wrong._

"Hali!? Hali, where are you!?"

He pushed away from the chipping paint of the metal, taking a few wobbly steps before finding his equilibrium.

 _Suki?_

"HALI! FUCK! HALI!?"

He sped down the pavement his feet going numb in his shoes from how hard he was running. He looked to all the houses seeing nothing out of the ordinary. No. That wasn't right. The paint was old and peeling, the wood sagging and bending as if under a heavy weight. He screeched to a stop in front of his house and couldn't help but gape in terror. If he hadn't known it was his he never would have been able to tell. It was half ruined, the walls caving in on the sides and the roof sagging beyond what he thought could possibly be the breaking point.

Another crack.

He fell to his knees, gasping as his hand clutched desperately at the uniform covering his chest. Fuck it hurt. It hurt so bad. As if someone had reached their hand into his chest and ripped something out.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

No. He watched as the ground fell away right next to him taking half of the house with it.

Katsuki yelped, scrabbling back with slick palms.

"H-hali," he gasped desperately. "Fuck! Where are you? Where are you!?"

The sharp drop next to him was slowly starting to lose more ground disintegrating into a black void that was encroaching ever so slowly. Staring out into it, his eyes started to burn and blur with a sudden realization. Shivers wracked his form and his palms let out short bursts against the gravel.

"No. No no no. Nononononono! Hali don't you fucking leave me! I'll fucking kill you first," he screamed, frantically shoving himself up so he could run back the way he came.

Another crack. This one leaving him hollering in pain, heart pounding a painful staccato rhythm. Each beat brought a new and powerful agony almost bringing him to his knees again. Fuck that. He was going to be a Hero, the number fucking one. He could deal with any pain as long as he found Harley.

"Hali," he roared. "Where the fuck are you!?"

Each tortuous moment only fueled him further. His pain was turned to rage, his worry to power. He charged down the street unheeding of the new damage to the surrounding area and the blood red cast of the park was finally in sight again -was he going fucking slower!?- and with it was Harley.

His Hali, his spitfire. The only fucking one that could ever hope to be his equal and significant other.

She stood there, features drowned in eerie vermilion, back to him, wearing the same clothes she had been the night before. Her shoulders were hunched and her head hung low. It was a stance he had only ever seen Deku take. Defeated. Hopeless.

It was _wrong_.

"HALI!"

She turned, slowly, her head lifting as she sought the voice of her other half. The black hair glinted under the strange lighting almost looking like it was blood dripping down her alabaster face. No wait. That was fucking blood. FUCK.

"Hali! What's happening!?"

Her lips pulled into a wry smile.

Her voice was soft, echoing soothingly, unlike the shattering world around him. "I won," she cheered quietly. "Everyone is safe. I'm an actual hero by deed now."

Why couldn't he get to her? He was still running, he could feel it, but it was also like moving through molasses. Every step he took, there were a thousand more he needed to go. He could see her clearly, hear her clearly but he couldn't. Get. Fucking. Close.

By now she was facing him fully and he could she the dirt and tears in her clothes. There was a deep laceration on her side, the shirt stuck to the dried browning fluid. Her jeans were ripped at the knees and shredded near the bottom as if by claws. He remembered that one awful story of when she was chased up a tree by that shitty mongrel that had ravaged her leg. He imagined it looked something close to what it did now.

"I'm so sorry, Suki."

"No! Don't fucking apologize," he howled, voice cracking painfully. "Just get over here you fucking midget!"

It was a poor taunt. He knew. She knew it. But he couldn't think of anything else to get her to move. She was still standing there her lips twisted sadly, bitter regret reflecting in her emerald green eyes.

"I really wish we could have met in person."

"We fucking can! We will, you shitty witch!"

Her eyes fluttered closed and something else cracked. His voice was stolen from the pain alone, a soul deep hurt that he would remember forever.

"NO! I won't fucking let you," he coughed out, ignoring the warmth dribbling down his lip and chin. "You're not allowed. We promised forever. You can't- you can't do _this_!"

His emotions returned tenfold, stronger than he had the capability of handling. It was a maelstrom in his chest, in his head. It was like trying to swim against a monstrous torrent as it ripped you away from sanity. But he couldn't let it. The rage, the pain, the guilt, the despair. None of it. If it won, she was lost. It was a knowledge that was so ingrained in his psyche that he could never forget. Would never forget.

With every scrap of willpower he had -which was a fucking lot thank you very much- he focused his emotions into his quirk allowing his explosions to propel him forward. It was faster but still not enough. It was not nearly enough.

Her eyes opened and a single tear of blood dripped from her irritated scar, down her cheek and chin till it fell to the ground. As soon as it touched the earth, everything shattered like a million pieces of glass. Each shard still held the memory of the dreamscape it used to be until they started disintegrating just as the street had done before it.

With the ground gone he had to rely on his quirk to keep him moving. Harley was just out of reach, only one more explosion would do it. He stretched his hand forward furiously.

"Thank you for loving me."

Her eyes regarded him kindly, solemnly. Her lips stretched into a grin reminiscent of their younger days, full of mischief and life. Her vision was beauty but her words were poison.

"You were everything that I wished for."

Just as his fingers were to grasp her, she shattered. The pieces were so small that they slammed through him like a thousand bullets. Katsuki's entire being was suspended, absent.

"Ha...li…?"

* * *

Mitsuki was never more terrified than we she got the call from her son's school that he had collapsed and started bleeding from multiple orifices. The paramedics had brought him to the nearest hospital and she was out the door before the man even finished speaking. She called her husband, frantic and near tears to explain what she knew as she rushed to car and drove through traffic like a maniac Masaru was only ten minutes behind in reaching the hospital.

That was over a week ago and the doctors were only waiting for him to wake up. He was stable, they said, but they still had no idea the cause of the attack. It could have been a quirk but no one else was affected and there was no reason for anyone to target her baby. She just… didn't understand.

She traced his bandaged palms lightly, not caring for the pain in her lower back due to the uncomfortable chair she was sitting.

That was another thing. He'd been screaming, crying, and his quirk was acting like he was consciously using it but…

Mitsuki sighed and glanced up at his face.

His dull red eyes stared at the ceiling… Wait.

"Katsuki," she gasped. She jumped to her feet, back twinging, legs shaky, as she bent over her son.

Her heart dropped to her toes almost immediately. He was awake but… There was still something wrong. His face was blank, eyes dull. There was nothing there that was her firecracker son.

"Katsuki," she queried more hesitantly. "You're at the hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

No response.

Mitsuki couldn't help the tears. Fuck but she wasn't made for these kinds of emotions. With quivering breath and a tight chest, she called for a nurse before phoning Masaru. He had finally gone to work the day before. Bills needed to be paid after all. He… needed to know.

In the next few minutes a doctor came bustling in with a nurse hot on his heels. They adjusted the bed and pillows so Katsuki was upright. They asked a few questions but he remained unresponsive. Instead, with her permission, they did a few tests. Everything was fully responsive. It was just Katsuki himself that wasn't answering.

She sat with him, pleaded with him, for close to an hour before Masaru arrived, his face haggard and drawn. He looked upon their son sadly.

"Katsuki. What happened?"

Mitsuki shook her head. He wouldn't answer.

But, of course, he did.

"She was supposed to be a hero… Not a martyr." The words were quiet, barely audible and if the blonde hadn't been so close to her son she wouldn't have known he had spoken. His lips hardly moved and the tone was so flat, so lacking in emotion that she almost feared her son was answering from beyond death's veil.

"She? Who is she Katsuki? Why is she a martyr?"

But her son said no more. Not a word passed his lips for the next month even after they took home. Nor did much food. If they didn't force him -mostly hand feeding- he wouldn't eat. His body was wasting away. Masaru was as clueless as she was about how to help her son. Therapy wouldn't do much if he didn't talk at all. They didn't even know what was wrong.

Eventually after Masaru giving the go ahead for a desperate plan she had, Izuku and Inko came for a visit. Izuku tried to interest his friend with Hero babble and then there was a spark. His eyes flared, burning with a hatred she'd never thought to see in him, before he muttered, "I don't want to hear about heroes."

Izuku sputtered, "W-wha! B-but Kacchan don't y-you want to be a Hero?"

"No."

Mitsuki felt her heart stop.

"I-I thought you wanted to go to UA and be num-"

"Get out."

"K-Kacch-"

"GET OUT!"

It was the first time she heard anything resembling emotion from him and now, not only was her heart not beating it was broken too. Just like her baby boy.

Who then leant forward with a gasp, his body spasming before slumping forward.

"Katsuki!"

Inko took a frightened Izuku away while the paramedics came again and whisked her son away. This time it was a heart attack.

"Too much excitement for his body," the doctor noted with a frown as he glanced at his clipboard.

"What! But-"

"Ma'am, your son is in a very delicate emotional state and it is harshly affecting his physical state. I would recommend against anything that might trigger another reaction like that."

But heroes had been her baby's passion… What had happened...?

* * *

Katsuki stared at the white linen sheets of the hospital bed his mind circling around Deku's visit in endless loops.

As if he could ever be a Hero now. Not without Harley. Never. They'd promised.

How was he even supposed to exist without her? It wasn't possible, right?

He couldn't remember a time when they didn't.

And god the dreams. They were normal, if nightmares of her shattering could be called that. But they were normal in the sense that she wasn't there and she never would be again. He had tried again and again and again and again to get back to their sanctuary but it was like it never existed. Like his Hali never existed. Except she did, and now there was a gaping hole where she used to be and he couldn't fix it.

His hands weakly grasped at the blanket. How was he supposed to…? Maybe… Maybe he could… join her?

They weren't supposed to be separated like this. He knew that. He felt it. Anytime he thought he could do anything, he would be reminded of her and it hurt. It hurt to see her in every little thing. He tried to angry like he used to do to cover the pain but it… failed. The misery washed everything into a sharp grey. Until Deku mentioned heroes. Fuck heroes.

A small glance at the window showed how dark it was outside. Just like the mindscape before she had been stolen from him. His Hali.

On weak legs, he made his way through the halls like a ghost. He might as well have already been one. The nurses saw him but said nothing. It was good to walk around he'd been told. Fuck that.

Slowly, slower than he'd like -he wasn't fast enough, never fast enough- he made his way to the roof. The stairs were cold and lit in a blinding clinical white. The door was locked.

It was an obstacle in his way of seeing Harley again; easily taken care of, crumpling under a small controlled blast that singed his palm. Finally, he was where he needed to be. Outside, closer to her. He could almost feel her arm over his shoulder walking by his side with an excited grin on her face. He grinned back at her.

The wind was chilling but he hardly felt it. This was the first time he'd seen Harley since the disaster that should have never existed.

There she stood, wreathed in ethereal moonlight dancing on the air doing the small waltz he'd learned with her for her Yule Ball.

 _Suki,_ she laughed. _Come on! Come join me!_

There was blood on her face, her side, her knees, and her leg but she still had that blinding smile that made his heart pump with life and love. One hand was outstretched in offer.

He stepped closer, hopping up onto the ledge with an ease he hadn't had in ages.

"Or what, Hali," he teased.

 _I guess I'll just have to dance with another boy as practice,_ she sighed melodramatically.

"Don't you fucking dare," he growled, eyes narrowing dangerously.

 _Well then, what are you waiting for?_

She wiggled her fingers invitingly.

He stepped forward.

* * *

 **AN:** Well, tell me what you think?


End file.
